Lest He Regret
by artemis-nz
Summary: He allows himself to dream at night, and a phantom Julia whispers into his ear. Conrad/Yuuri.


When all is said and done, Conrad pushes Yuuri up against the cold stone of the castle wall and kisses him.

Or at least, that's what he wants. He gives no sign of it, however, and allows Yuuri his naivete. There are, after all, only so many years - perhaps even only months - that this pleasant state can last. Above all, Conrad doesn't want to rush things, and tells himself that if Yuuri is happy, then he can be happy too. He promised himself from the first that he would never do anything to cause this new Maou unhappiness, and Conrad is nothing if not a man of his word. Now that he has broken his word, causing all sorts of unhappiness (even if it was for the best later on), he has absolutely no intention of breaking his word a second time. Second chances didn't come around too often, and yet once again he had been forgiven. He would not throw that trust away now; not for anything. Another chance at life had been offered, and he had accepted because he knew it was all he could do, if only to redeem himself in his own eyes, no matter what Yuuri's eyes spoke of.

When, at nights, there is finally nobody watching, he allows himself to dream. By day there can be no relaxation of his guard, both because these are troubled times for the Maou and because Conrad knows that there may be serious consequences if Yuuri were to ever know what was on his mind, sometimes. The moments when the feeling strikes him are maddeningly erratic, so that it's never one thing that sets it off. One moment he and Yuuri might be playing baseball and exchanging light conversation, and the next Conrad must force himself to remain controlled lest he do something he regrets. Another moment all is well around the dinner table while his mother chats about this and that, and a split second later he excuses himself simply so that he may catch his breath which seems to have been stolen from him. So he allows himself a release in the dead of the night, when self-control no longer has to be his first priority. Dawn steals over the bed soon enough, and a phantom Julia whispers in his ear that he had better get up; the Maou is out of his own bed and wandering restless and without escort again.

He isn't too sure whether or not this Julia is a ghost, a part of him given physical manifestation, or simply a fragment of his imagination. And truthfully, he doesn't care either way. He knows he isn't going mad, because he is aware as ever that Julia is dead and is never coming back. Nonetheless, she is here in one form or another (just like she once promised), and he couldn't ask for anything more. Perhaps it is only his intuition that shrieks at him whenever Yuuri is in need of help or support, only with Julia's voice sounding in Conrad's head rather than his own. It makes sense, because somehow Conrad never fails to be there whenever Yuuri gets into trouble as he is so adept at doing.

Besides, Conrad can not think of anything bad about the fact that he gets fair warning whenever danger comes calling. One point in time is especially fresh in his mind, when Yuuri decided to slip away from his studies with an overly-enthusiastic Gunter to explore the more remote parts of the castle grounds, and just happened to tread on some weak woodwork. An extensive search party was called, and although Conrad was half a day's ride away attending to a human village, he was the first to find Yuuri as nightfall came, huddled over in order to keep in the little warmth that remained. As strong as the Maou was in his other form, Yuuri himself still had remarkably little control over his own powers. Conrad let himself breathe in the scent of all that was Yuuri as he carried him back to the castle, battered and tired and voice hoarse but largely unhurt all the same. He did not let himself wonder what might have been had he never heard an urgent call in his head: _Yuuri needs you. _Neither did he he let himself tell Yuuri that, because although Yuuri knows that Conrad cares for him like no other, he is still a child in a world that deserved him more than Conrad does.

There was another time, scarce weeks later, when Yuuri disappeared once again, and right under Conrad's nose at that. Yuuri would never make a good horseman, although he had been practicing faithfully ever since his rather interesting introduction to horses that first time he had ridden into the city. The horse he had been riding with Conrad along with some others in order to take in more of his surrounding lands had been perfectly peaceful until the first unexpected bolt of thunder had sounded. While other horses reared up but were skillfully brought back into order, Yuuri's horse was not so lucky to have such an experienced rider. Conrad supposed that it was unlucky, and undoubtedly painful, that a tree had struck Yuuri squarely on the forehead and rendered him immediately unconscious, but was relieved nevertheless. The horse certainly had spirit, and was fit enough to carry Yuuri far enough away that he could have been in far more danger than he had already suffered. The horse was found quickly enough, making enough noise to wake the dead. Yuuri took more time since he had been doubled back and was being looked for in quite the wrong direction. Another quiet tingle in Conrad's ear: _go back, this way_, and Yuuri was once again rescued, now more a sodden mass of rain and purple bruises than anything else. Wolfram yelled and stormed around the castle, Gunter hovered concernedly like a mother hen, Gwendal compulsively knitted a series of miniature animals, and Conrad simply sat and waited for the moment when Yuuri would open his eyes and stammer an apology for once again making others worry over him. Conrad remembered first going to the human world and going to the library, curiously looking over a book of fairy tales. He rejected the idea of kissing Yuuri to make him wake, telling himself that not only was it entirely inappropriate but that Yuuri also needed his sleep after what had been an immensely trying day. He heard Wolfram's assertive footsteps coming down the hall then, and rapidly pulled himself away while at the same time resolving to be there when Yuuri did eventually wake. If anybody could do the job, it would be Wolfram.

Time moves on. Yuuri grows taller and loses a little of the wide-eyed innocence, but thankfully not all of it. Conrad continues to protect Yuuri, and also continues to call him Heika before Yuuri rebukes him for it. It's a way of making sure that the required decorum stays in place, and also something familiar that can still make Yuuri's mouth twitch up at the corners even when he is engrossed in the painfully political affairs of his kingdom. Julia has not whispered in his ear for many moons, and although Conrad does not miss her (he cannot miss what is part of himself), he wonders. Is it because Yuuri no longer needs him, or is it that Yuuri has just gotten better at concealing it? Or perhaps it is another matter entirely, and Julia is just waiting for Conrad to get the point. Sometimes he feels as oblivious as Yuuri once was, and he paces his room at nights because there's a tension in the air that makes him restless and unable to sit still for long.

Until one night, finally, Julia's voice comes back like it had never left and is insistent that, despite the late (or early) hour, he must go to Yuuri, _now_, before it's too late. He doesn't wait to question _too late for what?_, and rushes off in fear of Yuuri being kidnapped, Yuuri being attacked, Yuuri dying while Conrad is right there down the hall. He bursts into Yuuri's room without bothering to knock, and his sword is already in hand before he realises that while Yuuri is awake and out of bed, he certainly isn't being kidnapped, attacked, or any of the other one thousand scenarios that Conrad has managed to conjure. He does lose his footing his his surprise, however, and promptly trips while Conrad drops his sword and rushes to break Yuuri's fall.

"Um... hi, Conrad. Thanks."

"It's no problem, Heika."

"It's Yuuri", says the Maou absentmindedly while staring up at Conrad. "Is there... er, something wrong?"

Conrad feels like he's a deer trapped in a spotlight, and wishes Yuuri would look away just for a moment so that he could have a chance to recompose himself. He gives Yuuri a hand up and sheathes his sword to give himself time to think before he answers.

"Forgive me for the intrusion, Hei- Yuuri. Every so often I get the feeling that something is wrong. Might I ask what is troubling you?"

"Oh, that... well, that is..." Yuuri shuffles his feet and looks down at the ground, and Conrad gets the proof he needs that something really is wrong and that he's not going mad this time after all.

"Yuuri?" Conrad makes his voice soft to let Yuuri know that he isn't angry and that no problem is too small for Conrad to help out, but Yuuri looks like he's just been slapped anyway.

"I had a dream!" He sounds frightened and very alone, like he's been lost again and is embarrassed about needing the help to find his way back.

"A dream? You mean you had a nightmare?"

"Yes. I mean no! I mean, I don't really know... or I do, but I can't... um. You know?"

It's hardly a good explanation, and Conrad doesn't know what Yuuri means at all. But he wants to laugh, because standing there in his pajamas and gazing up at Conrad with such a bewildered and somehow desperate look on his face, he is apparently unaware of how completely adorably woebegone he looks at that particular moment. Conrad is careful to not show this though, instinctively knowing that Yuuri would probably not understand. "Not really", he answers honestly. "But is there something I can do for you anyway?" Yuuri flushes and looks away again, clearly at a loss for what to say. Conrad sits next to him on the bed and patiently waits for Yuuri to continue.

"Please don't hate me", he says abruptly after a minute of awkward silence.

Conrad can't stop the surprise from showing on his face; Yuuri often has a knack for saying he unexpected, but this is especially odd. "I couldn't hate you", he says without thinking, because it's true and there's no need to think about this response. "Never", he adds for emphasis, and Yuuri pales.

"You say that now, but if you knew-" He bites his lip like he's said too much, and Conrad, who is very rarely forceful when it comes to Yuuri, presses the point.

"If I knew what, Yuuri?"

Perhaps the young Maou had expected Conrad to address him by title as was routine, and that is exactly why Conrad chose to say his name instead. He watches Yuuri take a deep breath as if preparing for some monumental feat, and a moment later he can't move if he wanted to, since it is Yuuri of all people who has backed Conrad against the wall beside the bed and kissed him.

It isn't a deep kiss, but something quite chaste - like a kiss on the cheek only directed at his lips instead - a shy kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. Yuuri jerks back and stares at Conrad, aghast, like he hadn't meant to do anything at all. "I'm sorry!-"

"Don't be." Conrad hears his own words and it feels like he's sleepwalking. He can hear Julia loud and clear now, _good, good_, and a part of him wants to explain himself to Yuuri and reassure him, while another part just wants to kiss Yuuri again and to hell with anything else. He clumsily settles for both, and somehow, somehow, everything is alright. Everything is so miraculously alright, in fact, that over an hour has gone by before Conrad knows it's time to go back to his room and pretend to sleep away another very long hour before getting up like nothing's happened. Yuuri, exhausted after who knows how many nights now without sleep, is curled up, eyes half-lidded. Conrad leaves him like that, sensing the relief practically radiating from him with every exhalation. He tells himself, as he soundlessly opens and closes the door behind him, that it will take time. Yuuri is in essence still a boy if not a child - a boy who's first concerns should be over his kingdom rather than a future lover. Still, Conrad allows himself to contentedly slide into his own bed, and to his amazement he feels the world slipping away after the feeling that he would never sleep again. The voice sounds once more, and he wonders if he was wrong at the assumption of Julia being no more than himself.

_Told you so_, she says. Conrad allows himself the thought that, although things are how they are, everything really will someday work out.


End file.
